


Seeing Blue

by runningkin



Series: Five Senses [1]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:56:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4621002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningkin/pseuds/runningkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He meets her late at night and it goes as badly is possible. He's been avoiding her, but the blue keeps calling him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

At midnight, his watch beeps. He packs his things and puts everything back where he got it. He quietly says goodbye to the librarian, Ms. Swanson, who insists the he calls her Tammy and eyed him the whole time he was there. Her odd interest in him was able to get him all the time he wanted in the library, even after it had closed.

It was cold out, and dark. There was little light and it everything was still. He took out his phone and held it tightly. He wasn't afraid of the dark, but he was afraid of being ambushed in the dark, most likely by younger students looking for a someone to prank. He started speed walking, and he thought of April and Andy and how they enjoyed tormenting him. He quickened his pase.

And as he was trotting through a courtyard, he noticed a figure sitting cross-legged on a bench, under a post lantern. Her hair was long and paler than her skin, and the light reflected on it. From the corner of his eyes, she was like a spark of light.

He was curious. He looked at his watch. 12:09. He looked up at her. She was absently nibbling at her nails, looking down at a binder so full of papers he wasn't sure how someone had a time to write on all of them.

He strolls over to her. He thinks about how she might be a friend of his. His only actual friends are Chris. He sometimes considers April and Andy his friends, but April insists that to them, he's only someone who lives with them.

He doesn't know what to say but she hasn't noticed him yet. "It's pretty late out."

She glances up. She sighs. "Yep, but I've got a lot to write."

He raises his eyebrows. Wanting to continue speaking, he asks. "What are you writing."

She puts her pencil down and he thinks she's going to snap at him for bothering her and making her waste time, but when she looks at him her eyes are soft and she's smiling like a school teacher.

"My thesis! What else could it be?"

He thinks about how early on it is to be writing a thesis, but by her tone, he's positive that she's sure of what she's doing, so he doesn't comment. Also, he doesn't want to annoy her.

Apparently, he isn't distracting her from her writing at all. She sticks her hand out. He flinches. "I'm Leslie Knope."

He takes her hand. It's warm even though the air is brisk, and it's smooth. He doesn't know if he wants to hold onto it longer or put it back in the pocket of his coat. He resolves to saying his name and then releasing her hand from his grip.

"Ben Wyatt." He grins just enough to show her he's friendly. Like a dog. He shakes the ridiculous thought out of his mind.

"So, Ben, what are you doing out here so late."

He shifts his weight to his side so he's in a more casual position. "Oh, I was just heading home from the library—"

And just like that, she's on her feet, binder falling on the ground in a loud thump, papers flying everywhere. She's close enough so that he can feel her breath on his neck, like a breeze but rough and choppy, but also so he's able to look down into her eyes, like two sharp, rounded shards of glass, piercing into his own.

"I hate the library!" She puts it simply. And then she's shrieking about how the library is the nest of sex-crazed demons.

He's stepping back. First slowly, and then he's turning on his heal and running away.

Her voice echoes in his mind when he showers. He stares blankly at April when she yells at him for showering too loudly at 1:00 am. When he closes his eyes, he's engulfed in angry blue flames.


	2. Chapter 2

Months have passed. He goes by the library less and when he does he doesn't look for her. He's convinced himself he's forgotten about her, yet every time he closes his eyes he sees hers and she remembers who "she" is. Sometimes, he sits on his bed and thinks about anything other than her. In the dark when he's alone is the only time he allows himself to think of her. Some nights, he's sick of her completely and he reads. He's read a lot more since his run in with her.

There's a brash knock on his door and by the time he says "Come in," Andy's already let himself enter. He looks at Andy, who's dressed in his usual attire, and April, who peers over Andy's shoulder on her tippy toes, her eyes covered by a black veil.

"Tom's having a party."

Ben blinks. "Okay."

"You should come." Andy smirks in his dorky friendly way.

"No, I think I'll stay here, keep the... Dog safe."

Andy shrugs. He could care less about Ben or what he does. He closes the door behind him as he leaves. Ben hear's April tell Andy how Champion is the one who's going to need to watch Ben.

Ben rolls over onto his side and listens to their foorsteps and the front door swinging open and then slamming shut. He hears their laughter, muffled and distant.

He squints his eyes, he doesn't want to see blue.

And as the slits of his eyes become thinner and thinner, his phone vibrates on the desk.

He rubs his eyes and for a moment, his vision is blurry, but when everything registers, he sees he has a text from Chris. "Come to the party." He begins when he recieves another text. It's a video. There's loud music and people dancing and talking and it's the lights are purple and dim. "It's literally the best party I've been to in my life." 

He answers simply. "Fine."

He doesn't bother getting dressed.

—

He's there in 15 minutes. Tom's had plenty of parties and his address is stored somewhere in Ben's mind. He parks a few blocks down, but when he steps out of his car, he can hear music. He makes his way across the street and down the sidewalk.

The door is open. When he opens it, the music becomes louder and clearer and Ben flinches, eyes reduced to slits once more. He realizes how big of a headache he has and he rubs his temples.

"Jello-O Shots!" He hears a voice. He doesn't bother looking for it, because the owner is already slinging their arm over Ben's shoulder.

"So glad you made it to the par-tay." Jean-Ralphio sings into his ear.

Pushing Jean-Ralphio away, he meanders through the crowd, looking for Chris. He finds his friend dancing violently, and nearby there are other people, drunk and unaware of Chris's arms and legs wiggling and flying everywhere. For a moment, Ben is struck with secondhand embarrassment, like he's watching his remarkably old son attempt to dance for the first time. Chris was very good at many things, but "shaking it" was not one of them.

"Chris!" Ben calls out.

Chris pauses and turns with a familiar smile on his face and his fingers pointing at him. "Ben Wyatt!" And then Ben is pulled into a familiar embrace. Chris pulls away, his hands still firm on Ben's shoulders and Chris is scanning him. "So glad you came!"

"Uh, sure..."

Chris continues to scan him, toothy smile unwavering. "Ooh! I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Arm still on Ben's shoulder, Chris leads them closer to two girls, both drunk and dancing up against some boys, angry at eachother. "That's Ann!" He waves in one of the girls' direction, but she doesn't respond.

Ben focuses on the other girl. She's blonde and fairly short and she's wearing a dress that's tight and glittery and short. It's blue and he remembers her. He doesn't want to say it, but a name comes to mind. Ben catches her eye, and for a moment, he forgets to be bothered by the loud music. She has some kind of thick smokey eye makeup on, but he can still see it.

The blue.

In the next moment, Chris is breaking the two up. The boys groan but Chris is immune to their negativity, and they soon are absorbed into some other part of the party. Chris sits the two girls — Ann and the Other One — on a couch, and then he convinces Ben to sit between the two.

They argue over him, as if he is part of the couch and he begins to wish that was the case. What they're yelling about, Ben has no clue.

"Fine." Spits Ann.

"Fine!" Slurs the Other One.

And then she whips her attention to Ben. Her eyes pull at him, from his chest. She points a manicured finger at him. "Ben," She speaks as if she's burned her tongue. Maybe she has, from drinking too much, "Dance up on me."

He opens his mouth and begins declining, but she grabs his wrist, nails digging into his skin, and soon his body is pushing up against hers and he's highly uncomfortable. There's a feeling in his chest, though, that begs to differ. A shift in his pants agrees.

He glances over to the couch, where they left Ann and Chris. He finds they have found a way to pass time; by making out heavily. He watches Chris, resting a hand on Ann's waist and the other on her shoulder. She's straddling him. Ben looks away.

"I need to drink." She says.

He thinks about how he should start calling her by her name. He doesn't get a chancs to think much, because she needs to take him with her. Soon, he's standing beside her in the kitchen, taking shots.

Soon, he's blacked out.

—

When he wakes up, he's in a tub. It's not the tub he's familiar with. It's completely dark, so he stays unmoving until he can at least make out some figures. He stands slowly, noting that he's missing a single shoe. Hesitantly, he puts his palms on the wall and begins moving, searching for light switch. When he finds and flicks it on, the vent turns on and the sound makes him want to blow his brains out. He's never been more hung over than now. He opens the door to let in some light and turns the lights back off.

He first looks himself in the mirror. His hair is matted down from sweat. There's a smudge on his cheek and chin, his sleeves are rolled up and his shirt has been unbuttoned to reveal his undershirt, but he knows that he did that himself. He washes his face and then brushes his fingers through his hair. he unrolls the sleeves and buttons up his shirt. He rubs his eyes. He purges the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He washes his face once more. Then he's ready to step out.

There's way less people then he remembers from last night, but there are some people asleep on the ground and furniture, as well as piles of food, cups and puddles of colorful liquids. It takes him longer than expected to find his shoes, but he is hungover and also, lots of people seem to have lost their shoes. Or maybe Tom just left all his shoes out. With both feet where they belong, Ben decides it's time to leave.

On his walk to the front door, he passes by the kitchen, where he hears sing-songy muttering and the sound of water running. Poking his head in, he sees her.

She's barefoot, her dress scrunched up in places and stained in others. She sways along to her humming as she washes some dishes. She doesn't notice him. How is she awake? How is she not throwing up in the sink or tired?

He watches her for while. All she does is wash plates. No vomit. He begins to think he's being both a creep and also that he's wasting time.

He turns and leaves like the first time they met, without saying anything.

—

April and Andy are sprawled on the floor when he arrives home. He steps over them and showers. In the middle of it, he regurgitates the little that is left in his stomach. He dries himself off and dresses in pajamas. He makes some tea and sets an alarm for later. 

He forgets about his tea. As soon as he sits on the bed, he's asleep. He dreams of her. Hips swaying in the little dress, the same color as her drunken and wild eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Leslie Knope.

She's the first thought he has every morning since that night. He doesn't know why. A good five months and a half have passed, and the only time he saw her, it wasn't actually her, but another blonde girl passing in the hall. Her eyes were brown and her name was Sara. He hasn't had a dream related to Leslie for a while. Whenever he sees the color blue, he thinks about the ocean and not eyes.

Which is why, when he goes to the library, her forgets to take the longer way, where he knows he won't run into Leslie Knope.

He's strolling down the courtyard. It's early, the sun is still out and the wind is rustling through the leaves in the trees. The birds are singing, and even so, Leslie Knope is in the bench she was in when he first saw her. Her hair still shimmers in the corner of his eye. He's still curious.

He knows it's her. Actually, it's almost like déjà vu. She's chewing at her nails and flipping through an even thicker binder. He walks slowly. She looks up when he's a few feet away, and though he winces, he continues walking.

She's squinting to keep the sunlight out of her eyes, but her blue seas of eyes are frozen over and cold as they watch him.

"What?" She puts it.

"I'm sorry if you're mad at me. I was just wondering if I could sit with you instead of going back to the demon's lair. But if you want me to go, I'll—"

"No," She interjects. "You can sit." Shs scoots over even though there was enough space for him to begin with. He takes a seat. 

She looks at him. The shade of a tree behind them falls over the bench in this position, so her eyes are wide like usual.

He stares into their blue. They are every shade; periwinkle, baby blue, even hints of indigo and turquoise. Their blue glares back.

And the eye contact breaks and she's scribbling something in the corner of a sheet quickly, and then she goes back to the sentence she was writing and finishes like she hadn't just been interrupted.

He remembers how strange he thought she acted when he first saw her. Saw her blue. 

He unzips his bag and takes out his books.


End file.
